I have not read the books.
My library has been organized by color and size for over fifteen years, except for the year it spent as a wall of liquor store boxes in the dining room of my 'charming' (you know what that means...)- 19th century apartment in Kingston, NY. Its 'Pantone-ian' organization was a late night inspiration as I observed the visual noise of the bookshelves might be quieted down if color order ruled over subject or title. Over the years, the pleasure of considering its color spectrum endured and the impracticality never failed to amuse. The library reorganization also heightened the sense of poetry created by bindings, typeface, and titles.
All jewelry becomes a form or element of portraiture, and in Found Subjects the book and jewelry piece came to reflect the imaginary reader, author, or wearer. What 'seemed like a good idea at the time' turned into..."What was I thinking?" I have continually followed curiosity, and sought new challenges over multiple series of work, but responding to individual books of varied character in a form particular to each came to feel like slightly schizophrenic creative acrobatics. I could have made a series of works for each book.
It is my nature to ponder in making. I prefer to explore something I am engaged by on multiple levels over a series of pieces. Intuition, interests, and experience inspire research which folds back into new intuitions taking material form. Perhaps starting as a painter left a mode of adding and subtracting which is impractical to metalwork, or maybe because I'm a Libra, or commitment phobic...I can't decide. However in this series, the challenge was to express an instinctive perception of each book into material, form, and jewelry.
In exhibition the books are presented on white washed plywood quasi library lecterns tailored to their individual size and haphazardly arranged in the space. But, it is endearing. It resembles a room full of people milling about. They are all wearing the same uniform on a variety of body types. Some are more matronly, some a bit frail, and others sturdily scientific. A sense of sociability develops, first suggested by the tables as figures themselves, then a figure standing at the table, and ultimately, that figure is you - surrounded by some quiet characters with whom you might have a conversation